Beyond Forever
by Uryviel
Summary: An apprentice, a childhood friend, a keeper of his heart, a memory - the mystical raven, and the mighty hawk...separated for fifteen years...bound only by a promise...did it last that long?...Only one way to find out...TristanOC
1. In The Beginning: Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to the movie.

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**Chapter 1: In the Beginning (Prologue)**

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"Tristan!" a little girl's shriek was heard upon the lush green hills of Sarmatia. "Stop! It tickles!"

"Oh? Why should I?" a boy at the age of sixteen retorted smugly.

"I'll...I promise I'll...I'll practice shooting arrows...more often! I...I promise!" she managed to tell him in between laughs.

"Alright. I'll hold you to your word." He stood up and grinned. "For a little girl six years of age, you have a lot of potential with that bow. Now, let me see if you've improved." He held out his hand, which she gladly took.

"I want you to hit that tree over there." He pointed to a tree clearly out of range.

"That is too far! The arrow won't even reach it!" she protested, picking up her bow and arrow.

"Really? We shall see then, won't we?" he replied, taking his own weapon.

Fitting the arrow into place, he drew the string back, aiming for the tree. He released the arrow, which soared swiftly through the air and hit the tree right in the middle.

"That-That is impossible!" surprise and disbelief were written all over her young face.

"No, it is possible. Never doubt and underestimate the range of a Sarmatian

bow." He reprimanded her gently. "It's your turn."

She did as she was told. Fitting the arrow into her bow, she took aim and got ready to fire. But before she could do so, a voice ruined her concentration.

"Tristan! Your father calls for you! It is urgent!" a boy slightly older than him came running to where she and Tristan were practicing.

Turning, he glanced at her and followed the boy back to his father. For a few second, she stared after him, then finally dropped her bow and quickly followed.

She was greeted by a band of soldiers who were surrounding Tristan and his father. His father was talking to one of the soldiers with Tristan behind him, scowling. Suddenly, he turned and strode past the soldiers, headed to where his horse stood. Her eyes followed his every move. She went over to him.

"Who are they, Tristan?" she asked, her voice starting to sound fearful as she looked at the almost murderous expression etched on his face. "What do they want?"

"Romans. They have come to choose a knight to fight for them." He answered bluntly and emotionlessly.

"Whom have they chosen?" she asked in a small voice. It took a moment for him to answer, and in that fleeting moment of silence, she knew the answer to her question.

"Me." His answer only confirmed her fears. As he mounted his horse, her eyes filled with tears.

"Don't leave, Tristan, don't leave." She was crying freely now.

"I have to. If I refuse, they will attack our village and destroy the land we both love." He looked at her, the emotions in his eyes were left unsuppressed, and she was struck by the intensity of it.

"Practice your archery, Alyna. Do not forget your promise. You may one day have use for it when I am not around to protect you." He turned his horse to the direction of the soldiers, many of who have already lined up.

"I _will_ return home. That is my promise to you." He looked over his shoulder, taking one last glance at her, fear and loneliness consuming him. Will he be able to keep his promise? That is a question he did not yet have an answer to.

She watched him leave with the Romans with tears clouding her vision. She understood very little of the situation, although she knew very well that they had taken Tristan away from her.

Turning, she ran as fast as she could to the place where they had been earlier. She picked up her bow and arrow with tears flowing from her eyes. Fitting the arrow into her bow, she once again took aim. Crying much harder now, she released the arrow. It hit the tree right above Tristan's.

"I did practice, Tristan, I did practice like you told me to."

Her bow fell to the ground. She was crying so hard, she hardly noticed at all. Staring at the back of her left hand, she gazed at the tattoo near her wrist.

A hawk. Tristan.

He will come back. He was a man of his word. She knew he will, but it would be a long wait and she did not have that much patience to wait for decades. It will be much too long. She will find him one day, and become his protector, as he had become hers.

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AN: Hope you guys liked this chapter. Tristan inspires me a lot so he is the one who stars in this story. Anyway, please review! Luv ya all!


	2. Thoughts

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in the movie. I only wish I did...especially TRISTAN!

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**Chapter 2: Thoughts**

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He was staring at it again. It was as if he drew strength from it. After every battle, every fight, he would sit far away from the others and stare at it. If he had spare time, he would stare at it as he would stare into a lover's eyes. His fellow knights were more confused than ever. They did not know why it meant so much to him. His eyes would soften every time he looked at it. Every time he looked at that tattoo on the back of his right hand. A Raven.

"Be ready. We ride in a while." Arthur's voice snapped him out of his reverie. "Tristan! You will ride ahead."

He stood up, whistling for his hawk. It soared down, landing on his outstretched arm. He whispered to it, softly, caressing it with a gentleness that he was rarely seen with, or if not at all. Suddenly, it spread its wings and took flight. Tristan quickly mounted his horse and rode, following the magnificent animal. The hawk was his companion, his guide. It never failed him.

"Arthur! The caravan is just up ahead." Tristan, returning from his duty as scout, rode alongside Arthur. They stopped as they reached the end of the forest.

"Our freedom, Bors." A young knight stated.

"Mmm. . . I can almost taste it." A large, burly knight replied, chuckling.

They looked on, observing the caravan as it made its way across the green plains. At a time they least expected, arrows shot out from the woodland across the field.

"Woads!"

"Ride!" Arthur, their commander ordered.

Without hesitation, they urged their horses into a hard run. Arthur rode ahead, his knights following in line on both sides. They all rode as swift as the wind to complete their last task in anticipation of freedom waiting for them after the battle. Or so they thought.

Each knight was exhausted, but nothing could wipe away the grins that graced their rugged faces. Even their usually unemotional scout was grinning ear to ear.

"Well, now that we're free men, I'm going to drink till I can't piss straight." Stated Bors, laughing.

"You do that every night." Gawain pointed out.

"I never could piss straight. Too much of myself to handle, down there I mean. It's a problem! No, really, it is! It's like - "

"A baby's arm holding an apple!" the rest of them chorused.

Arthur smiled to himself. He liked hearing his knights laugh, for they rarely did. They all deserved to be free. They all deserved to live and see their home once again.

"I don't like Rome. If he's here to discharge us, why doesn't he just give us our papers?" Galahad stated, eyes narrowing a bit.

"Galahad, is this your happy face?" Gawain replied. "Do you still not know the Romans? They don't scratch their asses without holding a ceremony."

"Why don't you just kill him, and discharge yourself after?" Bors suggested, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

"I don't kill for pleasure, unlike some." He stated, jerking his chin towards the silent scout, Tristan.

"Well, you should try it someday. You might get a taste for it." He retorted, grinning. Gawain let out a heartily laugh.

"It's part of you. It's in yer blood." Bors was half-serious.

"N-no-no. As of tomorrow, this was all just a bad memory."

"Oh. . ." Bors was suddenly somber.

As for the rest of them, they doubted if everything that happened these past fifteen years could only be a memory. Tristan retreated to his usual untalkative self. Is it possible that all the battles they had won and all the people they had killed, could only be just a memory? No. To him, it was a wound – a wound that would eventually leave a scar, if it would still be able to heal.

"I've often thought what going home would mean after all this. What will I do? Stiffer for Galahad, I have been in this life longer than the other. So much for home – it's not so clear in my memory." Gawain's eyes had a distant look within them.

"Well, you speak for yerself – it's so cold back there. And everybody I know is getting married. Besides, I have, I think, a dozen children." All the mirth had disappeared from the eyes of the large knight.

"Eleven!" they all corrected.

"You listen, when the Romans leave here, we'll have the run of all this place. I'll be... governor of my own village, and Dagonet will be my personal guard and royal ass-kisser, won't you, Dag?"

The gentle giant, Dagonet, looked away.

"First thing I will do when I get home is to find myself a beautiful Sarmatian woman to wed." Gawain stated.

"A beautiful Sarmatian woman? Why do you think we left in the first place?"

Gawain scoffed as Bors made a mooing noise. The rest of the knights laughed.

"What about you, Lancelot, what are your plans for home?" Bors asked, a grin still on his face.

"Well if this woman of Gawain's is as beautiful as he claims, I expect to be spending a lot of time at Gawain's house. His wife can work with the company." Lancelot answered, casting a sidewards glance at Gawain.

"I see. Then what will I be doing?" he met his comrade's gaze.

"Wondering at your good fortune that all your children look like me." Lancelot answered cockily. Bors laughed.

"Is that before, or after I hit you with my axe?" Gawain muttered.

Tristan whistled for his hawk as it swooped down from the sky and landed on his outstretched arm. "Where you been, eh? Where you been?" he whispered lovingly to it.

"What about you Tristan? What will you do when you get home?" Gawain suddenly asked.

This surprised Tristan that somebody was actually asking him, though he showed no sign of it. He looked straight at Gawain.

"That depends if I still have a home." He said no more, which left his comrade confused. He looked straight ahead, his face betraying no kind of emotion as different thoughts ran through his troubled mind.

Will she still be waiting? Would she have married? She bore my mark, as I bare hers, even unknowingly. More importantly, who protected her during my time of absence? It has been a long time, would she even remember me? Alyna, I could only hope that you still await my return.

If only he knew.

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AN: There! Hope you liked it! Please review. What do you think's gonna be in the next chapter? Better watch out for it then, right? Thanks for all the reviews, by the way!


	3. Without thinking twice

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to the movie. (POOR ME!)

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**Cbapter 3: Without thinking twice**

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It has been too long. She was at the brink of her mission – her mission to find him. It would be a waste to give up now. No, she will continue, even if it would take another three years, she will continue. She could not give up on him, not now, not ever.

No sound could be heard from where she stood alongside her horse. She wearily looked around for any sign of the Woads who inhabited most of the woodlands in this side of Britain. Nothing. She continued on her journey.

Mounting her horse, she urged it into a slow trot. She was almost out of the clearing when she heard the screeching sound of a hawk. She looked up. It was flying to the opposite direction. Strange, that a hawk could be seen here. It was flying swiftly, as if it was carrying very urgent news. She turned her horse around and followed the mighty hunter.

She followed it relentlessly until it led her to the edge of the forest. She stopped, making sure that she was still concealed behind the trees. Her eyes followed the bird, as it flew down and landed on the outstretched arm of a man.

She observed him. His hair had tiny braids and there were two lines across each of his cheeks. Her eyes traveled to his weapons, one of which was a curved sword and a couple of throwing knives, and lastly, a graceful bow. A graceful, _Sarmatian _bow.

A Sarmatian bow? Could it be? Arthur and his knights? Hope swelled up within her, and she could not contain her excitement. She had found them at last.

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He felt it. Someone was watching them, particularly, him. He turned and focused his gaze on the trees as they passed by. For a brief moment, he thought he had seen a rider on a white horse partially concealed behind the trees. But as soon as he blinked, he saw nothing but the endless stretch of the forest. He sighed. This was already caused by fatigue and exhaustion. Hallucination was never a good sign. He needed rest, and he knew he needed it badly.

He vowed to himself that as soon as they reached the wall, he would eat until he could barely speak, and go directly to bed. He will not exert himself anymore. He had done that too much for the last fifteen years.

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That was too close. She was sure he saw her. She couldn't risk being caught, not this time. This mission was much too important to her. She could only hope that those men were indeed Arthur and his knights.

She had not forgotten how his eyes searched the trees as keenly as a hawk's, hunting for its prey. His eyes were sharp and could catch even the smallest movement. He was someone to watch out for. Although she was wary of him, she could not shake off the feeling that surged within her at the moment she first laid eyes on the knights. It was a great feeling of hope.

"Could it be? After all these it be?" Her voice came out in a soft whisper. It had yet to be proven, but she felt that her intuition was right. She had not seen him, or even heard a description of him for fifteen years, but she heard a lot of great stories about the knights. Arthur's knights to be exact.

_I miss you, Tristan. I miss you a lot._

Sighing, she searched for a place to stop and rest, where she could see the gates of the wall. She intended to prove her intuition right, and hopefully, bring Tristan back home with her. She will cease the chance when it presented itself.

Finally finding a place that matched her standards, she dismounted and tied her horse to a low hanging branch of a tree. Making sure it was secure, she turned and faced her trusty companion. The horse snorted and nuzzled her neck. That was how it showed affection.

Her lips curled up into a soft smile as she patted the magnificent animal. It was only them for now, as it had been for the past two years when she had started her journey. They started it together, and together, they will finish it.

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"There. Beat that." Galahad challenged Gawain as one of his throwing knives hit the middle of the post.

Gawain let out a snort. Tristan slowly came up behind him, and threw his own knife. It landed on the handle of Galahad's.

"Tristan, how do you do that?" Gawain asked incredulously.

"I aim for the middle." He answered curtly, and took a bite on his apple.

"Sing!" the three men turned as they heard Bors, who was telling Vanora to sing. At first, she hesitated, but finally gave in.

_Land of bear and land of eagle  
Land that gave us birth and blessing  
Land that pulls us ever homeward  
We will go home across the mountain  
  
We will go home  
We will go home  
We will go home across the mountain  
  
We will go home  
We will go home  
We will go home across the mountain_

Everyone was silent as they listened to the song. Each knight had his own vision of coming home. _What would it be like?_ That was the big question. They had been away from home for so long they could hardly remember it.

Meanwhile, Arthur was watching from a far. He was observing the expression on each of his men's face. He felt a great pang of guilt as he thought over what he was going to say to them.

_Hear our singing  
Hear our longing  
We will go home across the mountain  
  
We will go home  
We will go home..._

"Arthur! Come join us!" Jols, finally noticing him, called out.

Arthur had a grim and serious face, opposite the ones his knights were seen with at that very moment as he approached. Facing all of them, he took in a deep breath.

"Knights. Brothers in arms. Your courage has been tested beyond all limits, but I must ask you now for one further trial." He said in a low voice.

"Drink." Bors said good-humouredly. Galahad laughed. This made Arthur feel guiltier, if that was possible.

"We must leave on a final mission for Rome before our freedom can be granted." They all laughed yet again, thinking it was another joke.

"Above the wall, there lies a Roman family in need of rescue. They are trapped by Saxons. Our orders are to secure their safety." The Roman commander continued.

"Let the Romans take care of their own." Bors face was now somber. It no longer held any humor.

"Above the wall is Woad territory." Gawain pointed out, words a bit slurred.

"Our duty to Rome, if it ever was a duty, is done. Our pact with Rome is done." Galahad said with barely suppressed anger.

"Every knight here has laid his life on the line for you. For you. And instead of freedom, you want more blood? Our blood!? You think more of Roman blood than you do ours?!" Bors' voice boomed above the noise.

"Bors, these are our orders. We leave at first light and when we return, your freedom will be waiting for you. A freedom we can embrace with - " Arthur's words were cut short.

"I'm a free man! I choose my own fate!" his outburst was addressed to no one in particular. No one except himself.

"Yeah yeah, we're all going to die someday. If it's death by a Saxon hand that frightens you – stay home." It was Tristan. To him the situation seemed like a normal everyday occurrence, as if he'd known all along. He pretended not to care. At least not for their new mission, but for the troubled faces of his comrades. He saw anguish and sorrow where there was, only a while ago, humor and cheer. It hurt him in a way, although he would die first before openly admitting it.

"If you're so eager to die, you can die right here!" Galahad made a lunge at Tristan.

"Enough. Enough!" Lancelot held a furious Galahad at bay while Tristan, calm and composed, took another bite from his apple.

"I've got something to live for!" The young knight shrugging Lancelot's arm off.

"The Romans have broken their word. We have the word of Arthur. That is good enough. I'll prepare. Bors, you coming?" he asked calmly, trying to break the tension.

"Of course, I'm coming! I can't let you go on your own; you'll all get killed!" he exclaimed. Turning to Vanora, he whispered, "Vanora, kill me."

Tristan, following Dagonet out, had quite so much to think about.

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"The weather here is unbearable!" Alyna hissed as she wrapped the thick cloth tighter around her slender frame, the rain soaking her to the skin. She looked around, her sapphire eyes ever alert. If this were what she had to go through to get to Tristan, she would gladly face it without thinking twice.

Her gaze went to the magnificent horse not far away from where she was curled up, trying to preserve any warmth left in her body. The wool cloth that she draped on its back was soaked, yet the animal showed no sign of uneasiness. A small smile graced her full pink lips as her gaze continued to linger. The fire she had built earlier began to die out as she tried to plait her wet hair. As the last sparks of the flame were finally extinguished, the raven-haired woman finally drifted off to sleep.

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AN: There! That concludes chapter three. By the way, the raven and the hawk have no connection with each other. I just made it up on my own. Thanks for the reviews on the previous chapter! Please review this one also. You can give me an idea as to what the next chapter should contain. : - )


	4. Helena

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to the movie. (Do I have to repeat this over and over again? _Hehe..._)

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**Chapter 4: Helena**

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Before dawn, the seven knights rode at full speed to the gate. Silently, they rode on, basking in their own thoughts at the moment.

Tristan's hawk flew ahead of them, guiding their way. Soon, it flew faster and out of sight, as it did almost everyday.

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She had risen long before daybreak. Glancing around her dim surroundings, she took a piece of bread wrapped in a small cloth from her leather satchel. Her dress was already partly dry as she nibbled on her food, her mind a turmoil of thoughts – thoughts about a certain knight.

Her face remained blank all the time, though the thoughts that ran through her head came with so much emotion that would have had her breaking into tears most of the time, had she been two years younger. Unconsciously, her right hand went to the tattoo on the back of her left hand, her gaze along with it. Taking out a long piece of clean cloth, she wrapped her wrist and forearm gently, as if lovingly, covering the tattoo. Finishing the last of what she called _'breakfast'_, she got up and saddled her horse, preparing everything she would need for yet another day after that.

Not long after, she was riding at an easy pace to the edge of the forest, quiver full and bow within reach. She waited patiently until the heavy iron gates finally opened, and Arthur and his knights rode out.

* * *

They rode hard until midday, yet the sky remained dark and the fog, thick. They had reached Woad territory

"Woads. They're tracking us." Tristan, arriving from his duty as scout, informed Arthur.

"Where?" Arthur replied, glancing around.

"Everywhere." The words barely left Tristan's mouth when the horses became uneasy. Out of nowhere, an arrow was shot, barely missing his head. More arrows were shot at them, a number of Woads appearing from behind the trees.

"Get Back!" Bors yelled. "Get back!"

Arthur took a sharp turn to another path, and the rest followed. Still, the Woads pursued them. Three more attempts they made, all to no avail. Out of desperation, all drew their swords, preparing for another gruesome battle.

An arrow grazed Tristan's left cheek as it passed by him and struck down the Woad who tried to smite him from behind. His eyes immediately snapped to the direction from which the arrow had come from. His gaze was met by a slight ruffling of the thick leaves of a large tree. He finally turned to look at the dead Woad, and wondered who had released the arrow that saved his life.

Anger was evident in the eyes of each rebel. They advanced on the knights, weapons raised high. Tristan strung his bow, and took aim. He was ready to take the shot; only he wasn't given the chance. The sound of a horn was heard, and the rebels immediately held back. They were loath to turn, but they had no choice. Slowly, each took their leave without further ado, except one. He shot an arrow to the direction from which the arrow that saved Tristan's life had come from. The leaves rustled loudly, and from the tree fell the body of a person. The Woad quickly took his leave and followed his other companions.

The knights stared after him, making sure he was gone. Then, Tristan went down from his horse and walked over to the fallen stranger. Cautiously he bent down and what he saw confused him. It was a woman. _What would a woman be doing in these parts of the land?_ He wondered. She lay on the ground unconscious, and the silent knight took her into his arms.

"She needs help." He said, turning to Dagonet.

* * *

"Ugh, I can't wait to get off this island. If it's not raining, it's snowing. If it's not snowing, it's foggy." Gawain muttered, leaning on the trunk of a large tree.

"And that's the summer?" Lancelot added.

"The rain is good. Washes all the blood away." Bors commented.

"Doesn't help the smell." Dagonet retorted.

"Hey, Bors. Do you intend on taking Vanora and all your little bastards back home?" Lancelot asked.

"Oh, I'm trying to avoid that decision. By getting killed." He answered, gruffly.

Gawain laughed at that comment; Lancelot smiled. The others joined in the conversation, and as usual, Tristan kept quiet. He stared at the woman whom they had found earlier. She had a deep cut on her arm, which Dagonet had fixed up earlier. She had not yet gained consciousness, but the gentle giant assured him that she would surely live.

As if right on cue, her eyes slowly drifted open.

* * *

Her eyes took in her surroundings. Her arm was sore, yet she paid no heed to it. Finally regaining some of her strength, she slowly got up, only her arms did not support her weight. She was certain she would have hit the ground had not a pair of arms caught her on time.

"Rest. You took a hard fall back there." He whispered into her ear, easing her back down the cot.

She dared to look up, and a pair of dark, mysterious orbs met her gaze. She remembered quite well when she had first seen him, and now, being so close to him was a different thing. Her heart raced, and she could not shake away the feeling that she had known him once before.

"Don't worry. You are safe." He assured her. "Dagonet fixed your arm. You will be fine, just rest a bit."

She nodded, at loss for words. She studied his face, noticing that it had remained void of emotion since the moment he had first spoken to her. She wondered why, though she had not dared to ask. Tearing her eyes away from him, she scanned her surroundings for a brief moment, and then her eyelids drifted shut. She badly needed rest, yet her dreams did not let her, for they were much troubled.

* * *

"_Mother!"_

"_Go! Leave, Alyna. Save yourself!" Her mother yelled in the midst of the panic that had now fallen over their village._

"_I will not leave you, mother, never!" she yelled, fighting amidst the crowd to get to her. She knelt by her side, grasping her mother's hand._

"_Did you not say that you will leave to find Tristan one day? You will never get the chance if you will not do as I say." The dying woman answered._

"_It has been long mother, he will not remember me. But I will not leave you when you need me most." She answered, tears flowing down her face._

"_It will not be long till death will come to take me, Alyna. Yet you, you are young. Eight years may have passed, too long has it been, yet he will not forget you, my daughter, and he will not have you forget him also." She touched her arm lightly._

"_How can you be so sure, it has been eight years as you say, and neither of us has seen him? How can you be so sure that he did not forget me, and that he made sure that I should not forget him?" more tears came now._

"_When he made sure that you bore his mark, Alyna, he made sure that you would not forget him." She replied, growing weaker with each word._

"_What mark, mother? Forgive me if I am draining your strength, but I need to know." She said urging her mother to go on._

"_Did you not know? The hawk, Alyna. It has been a very old tradition of our tribe that if you bore one's mark, you belong to him, and as you bear his, he bears yours." Her mother was very weak now, her voice dropping to a whisper, and Alyna strained to hear her voice._

"_I never marked him, mother. What mark of mine does he bear?" Her heart was racing now._

"_A raven, Alyna, a raven." Her mother reached up to cup her face. "Find him, my daughter, find the one who owns your heart." She stroked her cheek and smiled. She looked at her only daughter lovingly one last time, and her breath came shallow._

_Alyna watched in horror as life drained out of her mother. Her chest twisted painfully as the hand that held her face became limp. At first, her reaction could not be read. But as reality sank in, she broke down, tears flowing down her face uncontrollably. So it was that her mother had past, only a year after her father. Since then, she had hated to go back to their own land, for it held painful memories for her. So she had roamed the southern part of Sarmatia for five years, learning how to heal, then finally, she made her decision to find Tristan in Britain. _

* * *

She suddenly woke up, sitting up in her makeshift bed. She looked around the dark forest, and her eyes finally rested on the roaring fire, and on the knight who sat beside it.

He was staring at something at the back of his hand. For many seconds she sat, watching him, until he spoke.

"It's rude to stare." He spoke curtly, though not lifting his gaze. She had no real desire to sit in bed for the rest of her life, so she got up and walked over to him. Although a bit wobbly, her legs still supported her. She came up behind him, and looked down. What she saw rendered her speechless, as her eyes remain glued to it. It was a raven – a beautifully drawn raven.

Tristan noticed this, and he greatly wanted to break the silence that surrounded the two of them.

"We ride early tomorrow." He said simply.

"Tristan?" she had not intended to say it aloud, but it was too late.

His head suddenly jerked up, his gaze meeting hers. "I did not yet give you my name."

At first, all she could was stare back at him, looking for the right words. "I-I've heard so many stories of the famous Arthur and his knights. Did you think you would have been excluded from those tales?"

"What's your name?" he asked, eyes narrowed.

Alyna had yet wanted to prove, if he indeed did not forget her. She longed to tell him her name, but thought better of it. At least she would not have to face his rejection if he did not welcome her presence, knowing who she truly was. Not yet.

"Helena."

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AN: There! Chapter 4! Hope you liked it! Thanks for the reviews. Please review. It's that little button on the bottom left of the screen. :-)


	5. Truths

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to the movie. (I'm getting tired of having to repeat this again and again...)

_Sorry for the delay. School always comes first to me. I'll make it up to you all in this chapter. Hope you'll like it!_

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**Chapter 5: Truths**

* * *

They were up long before sunrise. Alyna scanned the surroundings frantically for her horse. It was nowhere in sight. She had only remembered that she had not seen her favored steed since the day before.

"Helena," Tristan came up behind her. She turned as his hand touched her shoulder. "Your horse." He stated nonchalantly.

This caught her by surprise. "How did you find her?" she asked, taking the reins from his hand.

"It was easy. She was not hard to spot." He slid his hand on the lean neck of the horse, a smile gracing his lips. "Magnificent animal, superb breeding." He gave it a pat then turned and strode off without another word.

Alyna stared after him, her lips forming a soft smile.

* * *

They all rode in silence. As usual, Tristan was at the head of the company.

"When do you reckon the Saxons will reach the wall?" Alyna asked, curious.

"In no more than four weeks." Gawain answered.

"Do you trust me?" She suddenly asked, eyes fixed ahead.

Gawain followed her gaze and his eyes landed on Tristan. His brows furrowed for a moment. "You mean if Tristan trusts you." It wasn't a question. He didn't need to be very intelligent to figure that out.

She quickly turned to him, eyes wide with surprise. "I-I was asking – "

"It's no use denying, it, Helena. I, for one, have ears. Don't think I did not hear your little exchange last night." Gawain answered, chuckling.

"He doesn't trust me, does he?" Alyna finally admitted.

"Don't worry. Tristan does not easily trust anyone. It's normal that he wouldn't trust you until you have proven it to him that you are trustworthy."

"You mean I'll have to take an arrow for any of you for him to trust me." She muttered, sighing.

"Why not?" Gawain chuckled. "Until he is sure that you will not betray us, you'll have to live with him always keeping an eye on you for anything suspicious. Why is his trust so important to you anyway?"

Alyna hesitated, then said, "I don't like being doubted."

Her silent lapse did not go unnoticed. Gawain observed as her gaze once again went to Tristan. He wondered at the attention the girl was giving the scout. Sure, Tristan had his fair share of women admiring him, but not from this kind of woman. She was a warrior, he could tell, while those who threw themselves onto Tristan's lap were ones who knew nothing of warfare, nor could even begin to think it.

His gaze went to her bow. His surprise was written plainly on his face. A Sarmatian bow. A million questions ran through his mind then, but only one lingered: Was she someone who knew Tristan before they were taken ruthlessly from their homeland?

* * *

He could feel it. She was staring at him again, and worst of all, he liked it. He could not shake the feeling of recognition that ran through his system as her gaze lingered on his back. How could some person evoke such a feeling in him that he had not felt since who knows when? He could tell she was no ordinary woman warrior, especially with that bow she was carrying. Oh, yes, he knew. He recognized it from the very beginning when he had picked her unconscious form yesterday.

He continued to ride calmly, trying to ignore the burning sensation her gaze stirred up within him. He could afford no distractions as of now, when they were so dangerously close to the enemy. No distractions at all, even pleasant ones.

He longed to turn and gaze back at her, to see if what he suspected was true. But what did he suspect? That she was a traitor? Or that she was the one he had longed to see for fifteen years? By now, she would be twenty-one, Tristan mused. And if this girl riding with them was really her, she would've recognized him by now. Or would she? Fifteen years is a long time to wait, and people change. He changed, of that he was sure. She would've changed also; maybe even to the woman he wanted her to be – strong and gentle.

He strived to remain alive, only to gaze once again at the Alyna he had adored for so long. Helena. Could she have made it up? Maybe his hopes were just too high. She could've married by now. Yet his heart refused to believe this. His mind was making so many conclusions that it was all he could do to keep from losing it. It was the complete opposite of the saying: Mind over Heart. He was doing it all wrong! But deep inside, there was a part of him that believed that Alyna would've waited for him, that she would even go through the lengths of coming after him. Did she? He knew not, but he hoped that she did. How he hoped that she did. And he even hoped that the girl staring at him was the complete proof of that.

* * *

"Helena, is it?" Arthur asked as the rest of the knights rode faster, following Lancelot's lead.

Alyna stared at him for a moment then nodded. "It is an honor to meet the legendary Arthur Castus, one who has never been defeated in battle.

"I do not take all the honor, lady. My knights deserve it more." Arthur replied. "Where are you from, may I inquire?"

"Where do your knights come from, Arthur?" she asked back.

"Surely you know that they are Sarmatians." Arthur answered.

"Then you should know that I too, am a Sarmatian." She smiled.

"Something tells me you are not in this land without a purpose, Helena." His tone was dead serious. "What were you doing in those woods, knowing very well they were Woad territory."

His frankness surprised her. She had certainly not expected this. The smile that graced her lips was gone the moment he voiced out his question. "P-perhaps I did not know it was Woad territory." She answered, avoiding his gaze.

"But you did know. If you wish to travel with us, we would expect you to tell us the truth so that at least we can sleep peacefully at night." Arthur stared hard at her. "Why are you in this land, Helena?"

Alyna knew that she could not lie to him now. Not to Arthur. "Will I be able to confide this with you, Arthur, without doubt?" she asked hesitantly.

"If it is keeping it from my knights that you mean, no." he answered.

"At least you will not worry about me being a traitor anymore. Besides, it is only Tristan whom I want you to keep it from. I will tell him in my own time." She pleaded.

"Tristan?" Arthur asked incredulously. At this, Alyna nodded. He did not bother to ask anymore. "Alright. I will give you my word as long as you will give me yours that you will tell him when the time is right for you."

"I give you my word, Arthur." She answered with as much dignity as Arthur exuded. "Where shall I start?" she asked, looking up.

"I would suggest from the very beginning." Arthur answered, his eyes full of mirth.

"We only have two days before we reach the Roman estate, Arthur, as Gawain said." She retorted with as much amusement. Thus, Alyna began her story in complete confidence in Arthur's word.

* * *

"They have the woman."

"She would have been useful for information. The woman has roamed the land for quite some time now."

"There was nothing we could - "

"Through her we could have gained more information about Arthur and his knights!" another cut in.

"There was nothing we could do!"

"Nothing? There were more of you!"

"Enough!" Merlin intervened. Bantering with each other was no way to solve the problem. "What's done is done. Let us just prepare for our next encounter with Artorious."

"We should have killed them, Merlin."

"There might yet be use for Artorious and his knights."

The ghostly dialect of the rebels drifted through the eerie forest as they continued to argue about their next plan. Indeed, there were many things running through Merlin's mind, while the unsuspecting knights and their new companion rode to their destination as swift as an eagle in flight.

* * *

AN: As I said, sorry for the delay, guys. I got sick and we had so many projects in school. Anyway, I hoped you liked this chapter. Please review, okay? Give me more inspiration! :-)


	6. Maybe

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in the movie. I think made that clear already. (Hehe...)

Hope you will enjoy this one too. I will look forward to your reviews. Nothing satisfies an author more that the fascinating reviews of her readers. Read on!!!

* * *

**Chapter 6: Maybe**

* * *

"How long till we get there?" Alyna asked Tristan on the fourth night of their journey, after finishing their meal. They had no rest the whole day, wanting to cover more land before dark, and they were all exhausted. All the other knights were already asleep, save her and Tristan.

"If we travel tomorrow the way we have today, we will get there mid-afternoon." He answered, squinting in the darkness. Looking at him, Alyna wondered if he ever went to sleep, judging from how much he took seriously his duty as scout, guarding his comrades.

"Do you ever sleep?" she suddenly asked, making Tristan turn to look at her.

"What is it to you?" he retorted, finding the question impertinent.

"I-I'm sorry." She muttered, averting her gaze from him to the ground.

"How is your arm?" he decided to change the topic. She suddenly remembered the wound she had acquired three days ago. It had opened and bled again that day because of over exertion, instead of being careful not to aggravate it. She did not choose it really, to bear the stinging pain throughout the day, but the situation required it of her. They never stopped; barely giving her time to tend to it or even let Dagonet.

"Dagonet has tended to it, but only after a good deal of scolding." She said good-humouredly.

"Get some rest, then. You'll need it." He said as he turned and resumed his position under the large tree.

"Goodnight." Alyna whispered. Tristan merely looked at her one more time and nodded, without uttering a word. She turned to leave, but once again looked back.

"Tristan? Do you ever think of home?" At this, his dark eyes met hers.

"Why do you ask?" was all he said.

"Maybe because I think often of home. Do you?" she asked again.

"Of home, seldom, of someone I left back there, always." It was a curt reply, and he seemed to speak in riddles, but Alyna understood it clearly the moment the words left his mouth.

"May I inquire as to who this person is?" she asked carefully, knowing she was treading on fragile ground, which could break anytime. Such was Tristan.

"Go to sleep. Do I need to tell you twice?" he said it in a harsh tone, angry at himself at letting something like that slip out.

Alyna was not about to give up. She did not go through all of those cold, chilly nights just to hear him send her away. She did not risk everything only to have him turn his back on her. She went through all the trouble and all the pain to bring him back, alive and well, no less.

"Why don't you wish to tell me? Why do you avoid my question?" she replied, surprised at the calmness of her own voice.

"It is no business of yours and I am not obligated to tell you. Now leave." His eyes were glaring mercilessly at her, and if looks could kill, she would be lying lifeless on the ground by now.

"You're right." She answered, her voice almost at the point of breaking. "It is no business of mine." Without another word, she turned and walked away.

* * *

Arthur heard the whole exchange. He could do nothing but stare at Alyna as she slowly pulled the cover up the length of her lithe body and over her head. He knew that at this very moment, tears would be running down her cheeks. Knowing the truth, he felt so helpless to the young woman who had already endured so much pain in life.

His gaze went to his comrade, who was leaning leisurely on the trunk of the tree. Tristan was once again staring at the tattoo on his hand. At this, the Roman commander frowned. Alyna had shown him her own tattoo days before, and telling him the tradition of their tribe. He was surprised at first that Tristan had actually done it. It was only then that he realized that the silent scout was nowhere like this before – indifferent, and aloof. With this new realization came the knowledge that the only thing that took his innocence was being forced into a war he never even had a part in, much more not his own cause. He was sure then that Tristan had also loved.

* * *

Sleep did not come that night, only endless tears, and because of this, she was ashamed. She swore to herself the day her mother died that she would no longer cry, and she found it shameful how easily Tristan could make tears run down her face. But he was Tristan – the one and only.

She wondered how he could remain blissfully ignorant of her and of the feelings he evoked within her, especially the pain his harsh words could inflict. But then again, he was Tristan – the mighty hawk.

She knew for sure that her eyes would be puffy, and no one would fail to notice it. At this thought, a rueful chuckle escaped her lips. When had she ever cared less? It really hurt the way Tristan had treated her, when she meant him all the good in the world.

Yet even this could not make her regret her decision of following him here. Any decision she made regarding Tristan she would never regret, because right now, Tristan was her world. Right now, she only lived for him. Her heart beats only for him, and it would continue to do so as long as he remained alive. Because once he has fallen, she too will fall.

* * *

It took a lot of willpower to keep his eyes open that night. He would never admit to anyone that he was exhausted and weary. Many thoughts ran through his mind, but what troubled him the most was Helena's question. Did he ever think of home? Of course, he did. But he even thought more of Alyna than the land he had come from, for what would be the use of going back there if he had no one to go back to? This land had been home to him for fifteen years, and he was more familiar of it than the land he had grown up in.

He was furious, not to anyone but himself for letting that small detail slip out. He was never like this before, for he was always careful to keep personal things to himself. He knew that Helena had meant him no harm with asking that question, but it was as if she was prying into things she had no business in.

He had not meant to be harsh on her that night, but it was as if she was tearing down the walls he had built around his heart little by little. It had taken him far too long to make himself numb to any emotion, and he was not about to allow her to destroy it.

Maybe because he had been engaged too long in war that he had forgotten the feeling of love and innocence that he had once had and cherished. Maybe because he had been hurting for too long that he was pushing anyone who tried to help him away. Maybe because he had been away for too long from his homeland and from Alyna that he had forgotten how to love. Maybe because he had been under someone's rule for too long that he had forgotten how it felt to be free. And maybe, he had already suffered enough that he was afraid to confide in other people lest they should betray him.

All these were true, except for one. In all truth, Tristan had not forgotten how to love, for up until this day, he still loved her the way he had fifteen years ago. He never faltered in his love for her, yet he could not see it. He only remained alive because of the thought that if he ever saw this mission through, he would be able to see her again. He only lived for her, and her alone. He did not live for Sarmatia, he did not even live for his comrades. It was Alyna who kept him alive and strong. It was Alyna who kept his heart beating.

But even thoughts of his beloved raven could not keep him from drifting off into sleep.

* * *

They lived for each other, yet they did not know it. For Alyna, it hurt being near the one you love yet not being sure if he still loved you back. It wasn't the fact that Tristan had sent her away. It was because of what he had become. His life of warfare had hardened his heart, which even she could not find a way to penetrate. He was not the Tristan she had known before, but still, her love for him did not lessen. Her heart only ached for him, that he had been made to suffer for a cause not his own.

* * *

"I see that you did not sleep well last night." Galahad stated as they prepared to leave. It had not occurred to him that she had cried last night, for he saw no reason that would have made her do so.

"My arm hurt and I could barely sleep with the pain." She lied through her teeth.

Arthur watched her from afar, studying her intently. He was the only one who knew the real reason as to why her eyes were puffy and that she seemed exhausted when they all got a good sleep last night.

Galahad's statement caught Tristan's attention and his gaze went to her. True enough, her eyes were puffy and she seemed a little pale and weary. No, lack of sleep was not the reason why she looked so weak that morning. She had cried, he was sure, but he did not mention it, for he did not know why she did so. He frowned and went back to strapping on his weapons. Could it have been their little exchange last night? He had noticed the unsteadiness in her voice last night, but he decided to brush it off. Only now, he was feeling guilty over something he wasn't even sure of.

For the first time, Tristan was unaware of Alyna's intense gaze on him, pain written clearly in her eyes.

* * *

AN: There! That concludes chapter 6. Thanks for the reviews in the previous chapter. Anyway, please review this one also. I love reviews. Such wonderful things!!!


	7. The Raven

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in the movie.

* * *

**Chapter 7: The Hawk

* * *

**

They rode hard all day. As Tristan predicted, they got there mid-afternoon. It was cold but none complained. There was only sheer determination in their eyes.

There was no warm welcome awaiting Arthur and his knights and they never expected one. Such impertinent things were just a waste of time.

"Who are you?" one of the soldiers asked.

"I am Arthur Castus, commander of the Sarmatian knights and by Bishop Germanius of Rome. Open the gate." Arthur replied unfalteringly. The gates were opened and out came Marius.

"It is a wonder you have come! Good Jesus, Arthur and his knights." Marius greeted

"You have fought the Woads. Vile creatures."

"Our orders are to evacuate you immediately." Arthur got straight to the point to the dismay of the older man. There was nothing good in beating around the bush.

"Th-that's impossible." He stuttered.

"Which is Alecto?" Arthur paid no heed to the man's words.

"I am Alecto." A boy standing above the high walls answered.

"Alecto is my son. Everything we have is here in the land given to us by the Pope of Rome." The man reasoned.

"Well, you're about to give it to the Saxons." Lancelot, who was observing the scene keenly, cut in.

"They're invading from the north." Arthur explained.

"Then Rome will send an army." Marius argued.

"They have. Us." Arthur answered. "We leave as soon as you are packed."

"I refuse to leave!"

All the knights including Alyna glared at the man. He was despicable. They continued to watch as he ordered all the serfs to go back to work.

"If I fail to bring you and your son back, my men can never leave this land. So you're coming with me if I have to tie you to my horse and drag you all the way to Hadrian's Wall myself." Arthur bowed in mockery of the man in front of him. "My lord."

Then, turning to the woman beside Marius, he said, "Lady, my knights are hungry."

The woman nodded and went to prepare a meal for them. After she had left, the two locked gazes. Arthur's eyes were filled with barely contained rage and anger at the man. If it had been another situation wherein the lives of his friends weren't at stake, he would've gladly left the miserable excuse for a man to die in the hands of the Saxons.

Later, as they were preparing to leave, Tristan arrived from his scouting and went directly to Arthur.

"They have flanked us to the east; they're coming from the south, trying to cut off our escape." He paused to catch his breath. "They'll be here before nightfall."

"How many?"

"An entire army." Tristan answered.

"And the only way is to the south?"

Tristan shook his head. "East. There is a trail, heading east. Across the mountains.  
It means we'll have to cross behind the Saxon lines, if that's the road we shall take." He looked around at the few villagers who were loading their things into the wagon. "Who are these people?"

"They're coming with us." Arthur answered shortly.

"Then we'll never make it." Tristan muttered.

This time, the pounding of the Saxon drums could be heard. Alyna looked worriedly at Arthur and Tristan. She observed the activities going on around them. She noticed some monks walling up what looked like a passageway.

"Arthur!" She called, pointing to the monks. "Over there!"

Both Tristan and Arthur turned to the direction she was pointing, and sure enough also noticed the disturbing activity.

It was Arthur who decided to go and inspect. Tristan looked back at Alyna, his dark eyes holding her gaze for a second. Neither moved for a moment until at last, Tristan broke the connection and turned away.

Her eyes disturbed him. He saw those eyes before. A very long time ago. Those sapphire eyes that held so much emotion. He could drown in them if he wasn't careful. He shook his head. He was tired. No wonder he was seeing things. His train of thought was broken as he heard Arthur's voice.

"Water! Give me some water!" Arthur yelled as he gently laid the woman on the ground, his arm supporting her head.

Tristan approached him and took in the scene. Alyna followed behind him.

"She's a Woad." He stated. Arthur paid no heed to his statement.

"I'm a Roman officer. You're safe now." He tried to reassure the woman.

The rest watched in wonder as Arthur, enraged by Marius' treatment of his people, ordered that all who were responsible for this were to be walled back up.

"Arthur." Tristan tried to get his attention.

"I said wall them back up!" he was too enraged to pay attention to anything else.

* * *

"We're moving too slow. The girl's not going to make it and neither is the boy.  
The family we can protect, but we're wasting time with all these people-" Lancelot began.

"We're not leaving them." Arthur cut in.

"If the Saxons find us, we will have to fight."

"Then save your anger for them." He simply was in no mood to converse about such things. What he really needed was to think things through. He knew that his comrade was worried, but he had no time to dwell on that.

"Is this Rome's quest? Or Arthur's?" Lancelot said as he turned and left.

* * *

"Arthur." Dagonet acknowledged his presence.

"How is he?" Arthur asked, concerned.

"He burns. Brave boy." He answered.

Arthur, now reassured, went to the woman. He unwrapped the bandage from her hand. "Some of your fingers are out of place. I have to push them back. If I don't do this, there's a chance you may never use them again."

The woman simply nodded, trusting him completely. The pain was almost unbearable but only brief.

"He tortured me. With machines. He made me tell him things I didn't know to begin with.And then, I heard your voice in the dark." She paused and raised her gaze to meet Arthur's. "I'm Guinevere."

* * *

She rode behind the caravan where the boy named Lucan was recovering. Dagonet informed her of the boy's condition and she honestly tried to listen although she just couldn't stop herself from looking around waiting for Tristan to show up.

"Dagonet, how long will it take until Lucan gets well?" she asked.

"Not long. He's a brave boy. Brave and strong." The gentle giant assured her.

"I'm glad to hear that."

"Although the fever still clings to him." He added.

Reaching into her satchel, she pulled out a bag of herbs and handed it to Dagonet. "This plant grows in the land I grew up in. It effectively cures my fever after I camp out on rainy nights."

Dagonet inspected the contents and was surprised at what he had found. "This plant grows in Sarmatia." He stated.

Alyna nodded, smiling, and rode away.

* * *

His eyes were glued to the fire. Many thoughts ran through his mind but foremost was their current situation. They were likely to die out here, being outnumbered. He suddenly thought of home. And when he thought of home, he also thought of Alyna.

"Do you think the Saxons will catch up to us?" she queried softly, sitting beside him.

"With the way we are traveling, it seems likely." He answered.

Alyna did not question him anymore. Silence reigned for awhile, that is until Tristan spoke.

"I apologise."

"What?" she asked, confused.

He didn't answer her and continued to stare in the fire but she had a pretty good idea as to what he was talking about.

"I could easily compare you to the hawk. Unpredictable and mysterious." She muttered. His keen hearing easily caught her almost whispered words clearly. He studied her for awhile until his gaze landed on her left hand. Her wrist was wrapped in a strip of cloth, covering a good part of her palm as well.

"What happened to your hand?" he asked. His eyes narrowed at her surprised and almost scared expression.

"It's-it's nothing." She quickly lied as she tried to hide it under the sleeve of her cloak.

With her guard down, he caught her wrist in a tight grip. She tried to pull herself free and his grip tightened all the more to the point where it already hurt.

"Tristan, let go. You're hurting me." Immediately after those words left her mouth, his grip loosened but not enough for her to pull free. Swiftly, he had untied the knot that kept the strip of cloth in place.

Alyna held her breath as the cloth fell to the ground and Tristan stared at the tattoo on her hand. The Hawk. She could not think rationally at that moment. She was scared. Scared that Tristan might push her away.

"Alyna." Was all he said.

* * *

AN: Sorry it took so long to update, guys! But thanks for all the reviews while I was away! Please keep on reviewing. I hope you enjoyed this chapter! 


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